Resolution
by Willowsticks
Summary: Set after "Problems," so if you haven't read that its probably best to...as always (well from now on at any rate) my stories are set after series 2 - series 3 doesn't exist. Richard is getting to grips with impending fatherhood...
1. Chapter 1

Richard was watching her. He was always watching her. At first she had found it endearing, but after nearly three months it was beginning to get annoying. It had gotten to the point where he wouldn't let her do anything without lecturing her on one of the medical studies he had read, or consulting a website. _Most women dream of a man being this involved_ she thought to herself, but in all honesty she found it constricting. He watched what she ate, what she didn't eat, how often she ate, whether she felt sick, how many times she went to the bathroom, how much exercise she did, even how much she drank. Alcohol had been banned outright much to her annoyance. It wasn't that she even wanted it, she just felt that it should be up to her as to whether she should be drinking it or not. In its place Richard plied her with water to keep her hydrated. She had found herself increasingly trying to sneak past him at home, once carrying a contraband load of laundry that she was determined to put in the washing machine. Needless to say he had caught her and taken care of it himself, telling her to rest.

She seemed incapable of escaping his gaze, even for a moment. But the truth was that Richard was watching her so carefully because he was trying to work out an opportune moment to ask her to marry him. It had been going through his head almost since the day he had found out about the baby. His baby. He still could scarcely believe it. A family. Two more than he ever thought he would have, or deserved.

To say that it was her pregnancy that made him think of marriage was a vast understatement. If he was honest then he would admit to having dreamt of being able to ask her since before they were even together. He had often fantasised about coming home to her after a busy day at work, kissing her and their children hello, never once believing that it might be a possibility, so had continued to draw the loneliness of the shack around him like a comfort blanket, shutting out everything and everyone. Even after he had finally plucked up the courage to ask her to dinner and found that she was a very willing participant in their relationship, he had convinced himself that marriage to her would have been selfish. He knew it would have made him happier than he had ever thought possible but he wasn't foolish enough to believe that her being tied to him would ever stop her from leaving when she grew tired of it just being the two of them.

Now though, things were different. He felt a new depth in their relationship, something that hadn't been there before. The fact that she found him tiresome and eminently annoying had become apparent to Richard almost from the moment he had accepted her pregnancy. He knew he fussed over her too much and that she hated it, but he also knew that she accepted it as part of who he was, given what he had gone through and that she would worry that he was withdrawing from her if he ever stopped.

Hiding it from people at work had been difficult. It wasn't that he wasn't used to withholding things from colleagues, he was, but this was different. This was deliberately withholding the truth, something that he had never been very good at and his acting initially left a lot to be desired. Giddy, was perhaps the only word that could be used to describe him in those first days and Dwayne had shamelessly taken advantage of his good mood, arriving even later than usual to work in the morning with a hangover that had made it impossible for him to function properly. But Richard hadn't cared, even allowing music at the station, but drawing the line at going for drinks with them after work. He had ensured that Camille had also declined.

It had taken every fibre of his being not to constantly look at her in the office, not to run his hands over her, imagining the mass of cells inside her growing bigger as every second passed. As a result the hours spent out of work revolved even more around Camille than they had before. He needed to be with her at every possible opportunity, he wanted her to know that he wasn't going anywhere.

He could sense her restlessness.

"Are you alright?" She nodded. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Camille?"

"It's nothing. It's stupid."

"Oh well if it's stupid then don't tell me."

She huffed. "I don't want to tell you because if I do then you'll panic."

"I won't panic. You just said it was stupid."

"You will, you'll panic and then you'll worry that I'm not happy."

"I won't..."

"I just feel..." Richard willed her to go on with his eyes. "I just feel fat." Her last statement was said with a certain amount of embarrassment, as if she knew it was wrong to admit it but she still wanted to tell someone. "I feel so fat all the time." She looked at Richard who by now was mute with astonishment at her revelation.

"But you're not fat you're pregnant."

"I know I'm pregnant Richard, it doesn't stop me from feeling fat." Her frustration was beginning to boil over.

"Would you rather be thin than pregnant?" He looked dejected and confused.

"No, of course not! See this is why I didn't want to tell you. You don't understand."

"Of course I understand"

"No you don't, because you don't think I'm fat."

"Because you're not fat. You're beautiful."

"Oh God don't tell me I'm beautiful, that's like saying I'm glowing." He looked as though he was about to say something. "Don't tell me I'm glowing!" She grabbed the flesh around her waist. "Look at it Richard! I don't even look pregnant. People just look at me and assume I'm fat. I'm enormous. I'm hideous. Even my boobs are enormous."

"Ah now that's definitely not a bad thing." Richard was much quicker to step in this time when pronouncing judgement. She glared at him and he realised what he had said. "Not that they weren't perfect before, they were. Obviously they were. It's just now, you know, they're um...much bigger." He hadn't explained himself very well and he knew it. Camille continued to glare at him and he realised that he needed to make another effort to salvage the situation. "Camille, I love you, and I love the way you look now, more than the way you looked before you were pregnant, because _you're pregnant_. He took both her hands. _This is it_ he thought to himself. _I'm going to propose_. "You are so beautiful and I love that no one knows. It's just us and the bump." He was on the verge of sliding out of his chair on to his knees when she cut in.

"And maman." The moment was gone.

"Yes," he replied grudgingly, "and your mother."

She huffed a little. "Can't we start telling other people now? I'm sure they all know anyway."

"How would they know?"

"Oh come on Richard, it's so obvious, you won't let me do anything." The dejected look was back and she tried to backpedal. Her face softened a little. "It's sweet that you want to protect me, but I know what my body can cope with more than you do." He still looked as though he didn't know what she was talking about. "You didn't even let me fill up the kettle today. Stop treating me like I'm going to break." The message was beginning to get through, she could see him looking a little embarrassed. "Look, all I'm saying is that I am perfectly capable of carrying a tray of tea without any help. If on the other hand I need to get the Land Rover bonnet open, then that's something I could do with some help on...Ok?" He nodded and she seemed to realise that she had taken her mood out on him.

"I'm sorry." He shrugged. "I'm just tired. I'm so tired all the time."

He pulled her into his lap. "Can I do anything? Why don't you go to bed for a rest, I'll make dinner."

Her temper was beginning to flare up again. "I don't want to go to bed Richard. I'm not sleepy. I just want to stop being tired. I want to be able to do things for myself again." She paused long enough to get her temper back under control again. "I know you want to help and you are, it's just, this is obviously new for both of us and I feel like I have so much pressure to get it right for you. If anything happens then it's my fault, I know it is, but at the same time you have to trust that I'm not going to go bungee jumping or on a wild night out with my friends. But, if I want to go to the bar and have a beer then I should be allowed to do that...equally if I want a water or a coffee then I should be allowed that too, I need to choose, not you."

He nodded mutely and she kissed him. They sat in silence, a rare moment of peace between them, her head resting against his chest, his arms encircling her.

"I don't really want to tell anyone you know. I just get so bored of not being able to do things and I know when we finally get around to telling people they're all going to butt in."

"I know."

"I just want to get it over with. I want them to know and then for them to leave us alone.

"I know, and they will. But for now it's just us, isn't that better?" She nodded.

"I suppose so. I just want the whole thing to hurry up. I want to look pregnant. This whole time nothing's happened, I haven't felt sick, I haven't had any cravings, and I know that's a good thing, but sometimes I wonder if anything's actually going on in there. Even the fact that I feel fat doesn't prove that I'm pregnant."

Richard reached up and cupped her breast. "Oh I think there are certain things that prove you're pregnant."

She tried to wriggle away from his hand. "Richard they're so enormous, and so disgusting."

"They are certainly not disgusting." He said smiling, drawing her into another kiss. "Are you sure you don't want to go to bed."

"I told you I'm not sleepy."

"That's not what I asked."

"Oh?"

"No." His hand was more insistent now and he had wormed his way under her shirt, rubbing his thumb over the bump in her bra where her nipple was.

"Only if you're sure it won't hurt the baby..." She was being sarcastic even he knew that. He narrowed his eyes at her and she giggled, slipping off his lap and pulling him to his feet.

Perhaps this pregnancy thing wasn't so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Richard was feeling nervous. The feeling itself was nothing new, he often felt nervous, but it was the idea of seeing his offspring for the first time that he was struggling with this time. He had been warring with his feelings for a while, trying not to think about this day. There was probably something wrong, some sort of deformity or disability. It wasn't possible that they could have a healthy child, and if it wasn't healthy then it was almost certainly because of something he had done. Or had allowed Camille to do. Perhaps it had happened because he hadn't taken enough care of her, or because he had allowed her to drag him off to bed at every available opportunity. That much sex wasn't good for anyone, not least a baby.

Camille hadn't even felt sick, and if she didn't feel sick then it was probably because the sickness was manifesting itself in their child, wasn't it? But then there was every possibility that the opposite was true. Perhaps she hadn't felt sick because she was just lucky, sickness wasn't even related to health – was it? Surely if there had been a problem it would have made itself known in some form of abdominal pain wouldn't it? Recently he had to remind himself that it wasn't a baby. Not yet. It was just a constantly accumulating mass of cells, it probably didn't even resemble a baby.

He looked up and saw Camille watching him. "I know you'll say no, but you really don't have to come in if it's freaking you out this much."

"Why would I not come? Don't you want me there?"

"Of course I want you there, you just look as though you'd rather be anywhere else right now."

"I'm fine. Honestly. You think everything will be fine don't you?"

"Of course."

"You don't feel ill?"

"No, I'm fine too." She squeezed his hand a little then stood as her name was called. "Come on then."

* * *

Richard didn't remember much about the questions, the gel, the ultrasound equipment, everything else faded when an image appeared on the screen in front of him. He stared uncomprehending, his mind telling him that it didn't resemble anything, certainly not a baby. But there it was. His baby. He felt a surge of emotion and struggled to maintain his composure as his chest swelled. Unconsciously he reached out his hand and felt for her, feeling comfort when he came into contact with her extended fingers. He wore a small smile.

"Well, there's your baby." The sonographer's voice cut through the quiet in the room. They both focused on the screen, marvelling at the flickering image before them.

"Just one?"

"Yes, just one. How many were you expecting?" The sonographer seemed amused by the question.

Camille rolled her eyes but he was still transfixed by the screen. "Hmm? Oh just one's fine. But everything else is ok, nothing's wrong?" He made a conscious effort to keep the worry out of his voice.

"Everything's fine. You have a perfectly healthy baby." Camille shot him an _I told you so look_ and he was so caught up in the moment that he forgot to correct his thinking to the word foetus instead of baby. It _was_ his baby. He could only continue to stare at the picture in front of him.

He nodded mutely, off on another tangent. "Can we have photographs?"

The sonographer laughed a little then realised he was being serious, "of course, how many would you like?"

How many can we have?" He ignored the gasp of his name that had fallen from Camille's lips in embarrassment.

"You usually get 3 or 4, depending on the position the baby is in."

"And is that a good position?" He was pointing at the screen again.

"Yes..."

"So we could take photos now, in case he moves. She moves...it?"

"You can't usually tell the baby's sex just yet, it's a little too early."

"Can't usually?"

"Well, I suppose given the position it's in, we might be able to..."

"Really?" His excitement was beginning to bubble over.

"Richard," Camille cut in again. "I don't want to know."

"Oh? Sorry, I mean we never discussed it. You really don't want to know?"

"No!"

"Fine, that's fine." Then turning back to the sonograper. "But we could still take some photos now..."

Camille was now more vocal in her disapproval of him.

"What? Camille, if we don't take them now, it could move then we won't get any. Don't you want them?" He kissed the knuckles of the hand he was holding, sure that at this moment she would forgive him anything.

"Ok, but we aren't showing these to everyone. These are for us."

"And a couple of people. We should probably show your mother. And my parents probably should see..."

"Ok..."

"Fidel probably wants to see too, you know because he's had Rosie. He'll be interested." She raised an eyebrow at him but nothing would stem the flow of conversation that was now pouring out of him. "And we can't show Fidel without showing Dwayne, you know he'll pretend like he doesn't care but he will. We can't leave him out."

"Richard, we haven't even told them I'm pregnant."

"Well, maybe it'll be a good way to do it, you know, show them the picture and sort of tell them as a surprise? Or leave it around somewhere and wait for them to see it and casually drop it into conversation?" Her look was enough to convince him that it wasn't a good idea.

He caught sight of the sonographer beginning to look vaguely uncomfortable and cleared his throat, becoming more like the old Richard she had first known. "Yes. Well, I suppose we could talk about this later..."

* * *

10 minutes later they were standing outside the entrance to the antenatal clinic in the hospital, Richard clutching the small package of photographs that he had been given. To Camille, they all looked vaguely the same, she would have been happy with 2 or 3 as was the norm. But Richard had been so excited by the whole experience that the sonographer had taken pity on him and provided him with far more than was necessary. He was currently busy reeling off a list of people that he thought should have one, or at least should be shown them when she cut in.

"Richard, I don't think Dwayne or Fidel or even the Commissioner will be that interested." She caught the look of hurt on his face and continued quickly. "It's just, they don't know our history, they won't understand why we're so excited."

He looked a little defeated. "You are excited aren't you?"

"Of course I am! Why would you say that?"

He shrugged and began to look sulky. "it's just sometimes you look a little bored by the whole thing, and I don't know if it's because I'm over excited or if it's because it doesn't bother you that much. I mean, you didn't even want these photos."

"I didn't want all of them, because I think we only need a couple." She took his hand and kissed him. "You know I love our baby, and I love you and of course I'm happy. You just have to remember that no one knows how difficult it would have been for us to have a baby, they all probably think that this pregnancy was an accident."

That caught his attention. "_You_ don't think it was an accident do you?"

"Well, it _was_ sort of an accident. We weren't exactly trying..." He looked so dismayed that she had to continue on quickly. "But the best kind of accident, because we didn't think we'd ever be capable of trying." He seemed to understand what she was saying, even if the vague frown on his face remained. She tried to get her point across again "So can you understand why people might not understand why we're as happy as we are?" He nodded. "And can we keep the photos between us until we tell people in a couple of days?" He nodded again and she kissed him.

"Chief?" Richard tore himself away from her, his eyes widening in disbelief as Fidel came towards him.

"Fidel, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, Rosie fell over and hurt her arm, Juliet's just getting it checked out. What are you doing here, everything ok?" His eyes moved back and forth between the two of them. They both looked fine, perhaps a little guilty.

"Oh um, nothing really...just um, checking out a lead for a case." Camille fought the urge to sigh at his inability to lie.

"Oh right, which case?"

"Um, a new one that came in yesterday afternoon. You weren't in the office."

"Oh ok."

Richard watched as Fidel's eyes moved from his face to the enormous '_Antenatal unit'_ sign above their heads and to the pack he was carrying in his hand. Both men began to shift uncomfortably and Camille rolled her eyes.

"Oh for God's sake Richard just tell him!" He gave her a very meaningful stare and his eyebrows shot upwards in what she could only assume was an attempt to try and shush her. Richard was clearly under the impression that Fidel was still in the dark, something Camille would have found amusing if it wasn't so ridiculous. "You don't really think he believed that rubbish about a new case do you...?"

That got him talking. "It wasn't rubbish. We absolutely could have been checking out a lead." Richard was gearing up for a rant about how plausible his lie was, when he heard Fidel give a shout of congratulations to Camille and pull her into what would he could only describe as a tight hug. Too tight in his opinion. He was on the verge of telling Fidel to tone it down when he released her and turned to shake Richard's hand.

"Congratulations sir, that's amazing." Richard nodded, unable to trust himself to speak, pride written large across his face.

They heard another excited voice behind them as Juliet hurried over to join them carrying a tear stained Rosie. "Oh my goodness, is this your 12 week scan?" Without waiting for an answer she carried on, "I've been dying to talk to you about it for ages."

Richard looked flabbergasted and it seemed both he and Fidel had the same question on their lips. "You knew?"

She turned to Richard, "it was fairly obvious, you haven't let her do anything for herself for ages!" She flashed Camille an apologetic look. "Oh no, I'm sorry, I probably should have let you tell me in your own time. It's just now, you're here..." she indicated to the antenatal sign above their heads, "and, oh I'm so happy for you!" Camille grinned and they both hugged excitedly if somewhat awkwardly as Rosie was trapped between them.

A rush of questions came out. "So, how do you feel? I felt so fat when I was having Rosie, like a massive whale, and the worst thing was not being able to tell anyone about it, so everyone just thinks your fat! It gets better though." She paused for breath. "You're not feeling sick are you?" Camille shook her head but continued grinning, finally grateful to have someone to be able to share this with. "You're so lucky, that's the worst, and I didn't even have it that badly..." Juliet was about to plough on when she caught sight of Richard's face. She looked slightly sheepish. "It looks as though I should probably let you go. Can I see you soon though; I want to talk to you about everything!"

Richard and Fidel stood awkwardly listening to the two women making plans. Fidel was still feeling a little guilty that he had run into them, so it was Richard who broke the silence. "Um, we haven't really told anyone yet, so..."

"Oh of course, don't worry chief, secret's safe with me." Richard nodded his thanks and then watched as Fidel and Juliet left carrying Rosie who at least looked slightly buoyed by the happy mood of the adults around her.

They finally exited into the heat of the day, both keen to get away from the hospital as soon as possible in case they bumped into anyone else they knew. He kissed her temple as he wrapped his arm around her.

"I thought you hated PDA's."

"I'm getting used to them." She laughed, then narrowed her eyes playfully at him. "I told you ages ago that people knew."

He returned her glare. "And I told you people would care and would be happy for us." She reluctantly accepted his statement but poked her tongue out at him all the same. He smiled, still amazed at how, in his mid 40s he had regressed back into juvenility. He almost responded by shouting "_race you to the car!" _but decided that it was unlikely that he would win in this particular instance so wisely kept his mouth shut. Besides, there would be plenty of time for that in the future.


	3. Chapter 3

They hadn't gone home but to the beach. Camille had needed some fresh air and as she put it, a little bit of exercise before she wasn't able to do it anymore. They walked for a little while until, in Richard's eyes at least, she grew out of breath. Richard helped her to a fallen log at the edge of the beach so that she could sit, something she was perfectly capable of doing herself. It occurred to him briefly that the beach they were at now reminded him strongly of where he had found her after Aimee had died, but truthfully, a lot of the island's beaches still looked the same to him. He could only hope that that she didn't follow his train of thought. Her melancholy would certainly ruin the elation of the earlier afternoon.

If she recognised it, then she didn't mention it.

He knelt in the sand in front of her to make sure that she was alright, his eyes searching her face for any sign that she might not be comfortable.

She batted away his concern. "You always fuss. I'm fine."

"I know, I just want to make sure."

She patted the log next to her and invitation he would usually have taken in order to get him off the floor, but he shook his head. "I'm fine here."

She downplayed the initial shock she felt, feigning it instead, aware that this was perhaps the first time that he had ever passed up an opportunity to get off the sand. Her hand smoothed his brow, and her narrowed eyes studied his face looking for signs of any potential illness that he might have. He took hold of it and held it still. The action did nothing to dispel her interest in his health.

"Are you ok?"

He seemed confused. Now that he had the ideal opportunity he wasn't sure if he could pull it off. He was paralysed both by the idea that she might laugh at his audacity and his fear of being rejected. He knew he was turning redder by the second, partly because of the sun but mostly because he could feel his confidence dwindle under her steady gaze. He thought his hands were beginning to sweat and wondered in a panic if Camille could feel the damp palm against her own dry one. He was just about to remove it from her grasp when he felt her other hand at his neck, flicking his collar up, protecting him from the afternoon glare of the sun. It reminded him of the fact that they were soon to have a child of their own and his confidence steadied.

The silence was on the verge of becoming awkward, Camille looked as though she was trying to work out if something was wrong. He felt she was dangerously close to talking, and if that happened, the question he wanted so desperately to ask would have to be shelved yet again.

He blurted it out without thinking. All that careful planning and romantic sentiment disappeared in his nervousness. It came out as a statement not a question, he wondered quickly if that was a bad thing or if it showed the self assurance she had been trying to instil in him since the beginning of their relationship.

"Marry me."

Of all the things in the world, it was clearly the last she had thought he was going to say. She looked utterly gobsmacked, her jaw hung slightly open.

It was obvious to him that she was going to say no, so he tried to salvage the situation finishing his proposal with rather a pathetic, "please?"

He watched as a small smile appeared and grew. He wasn't sure if that meant _yes_ or if she was about to laugh at him. She nodded then threw herself at him as they collided in a mass of lips and hands. The force of her body knocked him onto the sand and he quickly found himself on his back being covered in kisses. It had gone better than he ever could have imagined.

He tried to pry himself away from her, to tell her what he had meant to say at the beginning; that he loved her; that she was beautiful; that from the moment he had met her he had never wanted another woman; that he was totally undeserving of her; but every time he attempted it, she shushed him with more kisses.

She broke off suddenly allowing Richard to catch his breath again and sat up. He began to wonder if her overenthusiastic response had caused her pain in any way, she had been lying on her front in order to kiss him and all of his readings thus far had pointed to the fact that this should be avoided. But when she did speak it wasn't what he was expecting.

"Are you serious?"

She only realised what she had said after she saw the hurt fill his eyes and the beginnings of his stumbling reply as he dropped them from hers completely. She moved quickly to control damage limitation. "I didn't mean it like that, I just wanted to make sure that this is what you want."

"Of course it's what I want."

"Ok, but I don't understand why now." He wasn't quite on the same wavelength as her. "We've just had our three month scan..."

"I know. It was amazing; didn't you think it was amazing?"

"Yes. But I want to know why you're asking me to marry you now?"

He searched around wildly, trying to find a suitable answer in everything from the horizon to the shifting sand under him. It was the first time that it occurred to him that now might not actually have been the perfect time he had deemed it to be. But why not? The scan was fine. Their baby was fine. They were in love. Why wasn't now a good time?

"Did you honestly think that if there was a problem with our baby I wouldn't have said yes?" He didn't answer. "Richard?"

"No!" He was indignant in his reply. "I just wanted to ask you. I've been trying to ask you for ages and it's never worked, and we're on the beach and you weren't talking..." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"You asked me because I wasn't talking?"

He huffed, aware that he was on the verge of ruining the moment. "I asked you because I thought it was romantic." He mentally added that had she actually been talking then he wouldn't have got around to doing it. He also seemed to realise that he owed her some sort of apology for the way he had proposed. "But you made me nervous. I've been practising for ages and I just sort of forgot everything"

"You've been practising?" Oh God this was getting worse. Not only did she now think he was a loser for practising in the first place, she probably thought that he was a moron given that he had managed to fluff what he had been intending to say in the first place. Only an idiot would have to practise the line 'marry me.' He silently cursed himself for not being able to do the whole thing off the cuff as she would have wanted.

"A bit, but not like that. It was different..." He stopped, aware that he was not explaining himself well.

She was looking at him with that exasperated smile that she bestowed on him when she and he both knew that he was an idiot. He was grateful at least to know that on some levels he was forgiven for the cack handed way he'd just asked her to spend the rest of her life with him. He was also aware that during the time it had taken for his thoughts to process the fact that he was off the hook her facial expression had changed.

She was now looking at him expectantly and Richard had no idea why. She had squeezed her lips together, aware that the question she was about to ask him was very cheeky.

"So, do I get a ring?"

"Oh God." The sudden realisation hit him that in all of his preparation he had actually forgotten a ring. How could he have forgotten the ring? He felt vaguely sick.

If she was crestfallen then she managed to veil it with her teasing. "I thought you'd been thinking about this for a while?"

"I have. I just forgot. I can't believe I forgot!"

"You forgot?" Richard began to panic that the yes she had just given was swiftly heading towards a no. He was about to step in and tell her that he would buy something that afternoon when an idea suddenly struck him.

"We can go together if you like. I mean, I sort of know what I was going to get you, but if you want to help then that's fine..."

"You want me to choose my own engagement ring?" Richard was again aware that he might have said the wrong thing. He had no idea if women choosing their own engagement rings was acceptable or not. It probably wasn't. He should have surprised her with something. Or at least asked for someone's advice. He dismissed the idea quickly, there was no one he would have or could have spoken to on the island, or back in England for that matter. His trust issues ensured that.

"You don't have to, I can..." his sentence was cut short by a squeal of excitement as Camille launched herself at him again, covering his mouth with hers as it suddenly began to dawn on him that the budget he had in mind was clearly not going to be anywhere near enough.

No wonder she looked so ecstatic.


End file.
